maybe if you take one more
by maddieclaybourne
Summary: she's been waiting her whole life to be kissed like she's everything to someone, she just never thought her best friend would be the one to make that happen. tori/andre.


_Author's Note: This takes place during the latest Victorious episode "Tori Goes Platinum." Instead of Beck figuring out that Tori's diva behavior was an act, it's Andre` who does, like it should have been._

**- maybe if you take one more, then I would know for sure - **

**tori vega/andre` harris**

**summary: she's been waiting her whole life to be kissed like she's everything to someone, she just never thought her best friend would be the one to make that happen**

Of course this would happen to her.

To _finally_ get everything she ever wanted [to be a popstar, to sing in front of millions, to live her dreams, _to make it shine_], she had to be _everything_ she never wanted to be or could be. A bad girl obnoxious rockstar. Someone who wore ridiculous outfits, crazy makeup, strange hair and didn't care about anyone else.

But that wasn't who she was.

She was Tori Vega; good girl, everyone's best friend, always with a smile on her face, lively with happiness wherever she went.

Then Mason Thornsmith happened. There he was offering her _everything_ on a silver platter and all she had to do was reach out and take it, right? Because it was all about the music and touching people, changing their lives with a song, making them smile, and nothing else mattered, right? Not her clothes, not her hair, her attitude. She just had to be herself; shiny, happy, friendly, good girl Tori and she'd have it all.

But noooooooo that's not what happened. Not even close.

And now she was wearing crazy outfits, doing her hair all wild, putting on, like, nine pounds of makeup and oh yeah, she had just thrown the _biggest temper tantrum ever_ and turned over a table, poured ravioli down a former astronaut's pants and basically turned herself into a huge gank and why?

Sniffling she started tearing out her hair, pulling at the ridiculous lycra outfit and after what felt like an hour, she could see _herself_ staring back at her in the bathroom mirror. She was Tori again. Or for a little while at least. Until tomorrow when she had to show up at school in a jellyfish dress with tentacles and a meat hat.

Tears shimmered in her big chocolate eyes and her body started to shake. She _really_ didn't want to go to school tomorrow dressed as a jellyfish with a meat hat. And who was she kidding? She was the world's worst liar [well, except for Cat] and eventually this act, this "bad girl obnoxious rockstar" stuff would falter and the real Tori would shine through and everyone would know and she'd be dropped from the show, and _oh God_, she thought in horror as her stomach churned violently.

Clutching at her stomach, she let out a little whimper of desperation just as a knock on the bathroom door rang in her ears.

"You alive in there, Tor?" Andre`'s familiar easy going tone floated through, and another whimper came out because he had been there when she through her temper tantrum, and aside from her parents, _he_ was the last person she wanted to act like _that_ in front of.

He was her best friend and she had used him as a pawn in Mason Thornsmith's game. She had sweet talked him [her voice dripping honey, her thick lashes batting and raspberry lips full of promise] into joining her for a fancy dinner, and then she totally wigged out and he was just there, not knowing what was going on and then the way he looked at her; his ebony eyes wide, mouth hanging open and just staring, like he didn't know her anymore.

That look flashed before her eyes and her stomach lurched. Because how could Andre` look at her like he didn't know her. He knew her better than anyone. Better than she knew herself most times.

"A'ight, I'm comin' in. If you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm gonna bust it." He threatens, but he's so easy going and chill, that she laughs. Though [honestly] the sound comes out like a strangled goat; half way between a sob and a laugh, and it's really not pretty and ugh she hates herself so much right now.

How could she let things get so out of control?

She doesn't hear the door open or hear the shuffling of his feet across the tile. She only looks away from the mirror when she feels the warmth of his hand burning through the thin cotton of the T-shirt she changed into, and when their eyes meet, she falls apart.

It's so easy to just break down in front of him. He won't judge her, like Jade. He won't be awkward like Robbie. He won't be confused like Cat. And he won't be at a distance the way Beck is [because even though Beck and Jade broke up, he's _still_ Jade's, it's like she's _always_ there even when she isn't]. He'll just be there; his warm arms wrapped around her, the crisp smell of his cologne filling her nose, his heartbeat strong and steady [like drums keeping perfect rhythm] in her ears, and it's just what she needs.

"So you gonna tell me why you're looking all bummed and chizz? You know for a girl who's set to perform on The Platinum Music Awards in front of a million people?"

"I want to." She murmurs into the hard plane of his chest. "But I can't. I can't tell anyone. And I want to so bad. I really, really do, but I can't."

"You can't tell anyone what?" His lips are right against her ear, his breath minty and it's almost like he's singing, his voice sounds so good. "That this whole diva thang you got goin' on is just an act that wazz bag Mason Thornsmith put you up to?"

She nearly falls over as she scrambles out of his arms, limbs flailing everywhere, mouth hanging open and eyes wide and blinking repeatedly. If she was a cartoon, her jaw would be on the floor, she's sure because, like, how did he know?

He laughs and shakes his head, dreadlocks falling in front of his eyes. He pushes them back and says, "Come on, girl, let's go sit at the piano and talk about this messed up chizz that you've got goin' on."

She can only nod and follow him down the stairs like a zombie.

They're side by side on the bench of the piano that sits in her living room, and it's so familiar, the two of them like this, and how many times have they been here before? Like, a million, she decides; knowing she's not exaggerating at all. His knee bumps hers, silently urging her to talk and when she turns her head, he's got a soft smile on his face and he's looking at her like he knows her, like he can see right to her soul, all of her deepest secrets are just bare and a shiver races up her spine.

"How did you figure it out?" She asks, her voice small and just on the edge of trembling.

"Cause you're Tori and I know you." He says it like he's saying the sky is blue or the grass is green, like it's just a fundamental truth that he knows. "You're not about image, you're about the music."

"Are you sure about that?" Sarcasm looks foreign on her and it makes him shake his head.

"I've never been more sure about anything. Now just tell Mason Thornsmith that you ain't gonna play his messed up games and chizz anymore. You've got what it takes to do whatever without all the craziness and being a total gank like he wants you to be. It's all in here," He puts his palm to her heart, and she feels dizzy, so dizzy she thinks the room is spinning and her cheeks are so hot, it's like she's a furnace all of the sudden. "And I know it is. Cause I've seen it. No one can make it shine like you, girl."

"Yeah?" She asks meekly, still questioning everything because _really_ she hasn't been exactly lucky when it comes to making it shine. This was her best opportunity yet and it could all slip through her fingers if she doesn't continue being a total gank.

"Yeah." He confirms. "I knew it from the moment you stepped up on that stage with me in the big showcase. You killed it then and you been killin' it ever since. Now let's turn that frown upside down. I wanna see that pretty popstar smile you got. How bout we kick it old school with..." He stops talking and starts playing the keys on the piano; a familiar melody floats to her ears and instantly her mood is brightened.

They harmonize beautifully, like they've been singing together for decades and it's just so natural, like breathing. He knows just how to blend his voice with hers, like it's instinctual for him. And she knows just when to come in whenever he trails off.

Her head's doing that thing where it's like the room's spinning and as they finish the song, his ebony eyes are locked right on her chocolate and her heart's pounding against her ribcage, and yeah she's been here before – having a moment with a boy – and that's what this is, right? A moment?

But this doesn't feel like it did with Danny or Ryder or even with Beck.

There's a warmth that spreads from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, filling her up and mending all the parts that were broken because of her shaky confidence about Mason Thornsmith and the Platinum Music Awards, her stomach fills with butterflies and isn't this what she's been waiting for her whole life? To be kissed like she's everything to someone?

And yeah, holy chizz, Andre` is totally looking at her like she's everything, and whoa when did that happen? Or has he always looked at her just like this, and she's just noticing now?

And there's his hand – warm, large – molding perfectly to the sculpted plane of her high cheekbone, his touch burning her skin, searing her bones, marking her permanently and then there are his lips – smooth, minty – moving elegantly just the way his fingers do across the black and ivory keys of the piano, and it's perfect.

It's just like breathing; kissing him, and yeah she has been waiting for this her whole life.

And maybe she's not lucky when it comes to making it shine, maybe she'll stumble more than she'll rise, but in this kiss with this boy [her best friend ever], she might just be lucky in love.


End file.
